Gut Feeling
by inugrl21
Summary: It's Halloween, 1981 and Sirius Black can't shake the feeling that something is wrong.
'Something's wrong.'

There was a sick, swooping feeling in Sirius Black's stomach as he paced in front of the fireplace of his safehouse. For hours now, he hadn't been able to dispel the irksome sensation. He'd tried all sorts of physical activity, including running around the yard in his Padfoot persona. He'd even tried those weird breathing exercises that Remus swore helped _him_ keep calm, but nothing was working.

Sirius threw himself onto the lumpy sofa and flung his feet up on the scratched coffee table. The flat he was occupying was decidedly run down. It belonged to Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth, and carried a faint scent of farm animals all throughout, even in the bedroom, which Sirius really didn't want to contemplate.

It had been decided that, after James and Lily's Secret Keeper had been chosen, they would all have to go into hiding. As Sirius was the obvious choice, this flat had been prepared for him and so here he was. But he, James, and Lily had gone a step further.

Since _absolutely_ everyone knew that Sirius was James' best friend and almost like a brother to him, it was certain that he would be tracked and have Deatheaters sent after him. So the trio had selected a secret Secret Keeper and had told no one else, not even Remus or Dumbledore, that Peter Pettigrew had been included in the Fidelius charm instead of Sirius.

It was a brilliant move. Who would suspect that poor little Peter, the smallest and weaker of the infamous Marauders, would be chosen for such a weighty matter. Surely, the charismatic and talented second-in-command, Sirius Black, was to be trusted with this task.

Sirius smirked to himself at James and his cleverness. The only one who had been against the choice was Lily. Her argument had been that Peter had always seemed _too_ flattering, _too_ dependent on James, Sirius, and Remus. She believed that he was with them in order to be protected rather than loyalty.

Thinking back on their first meeting with Peter, Sirius could kind of see her point. During their first year, he and James had prevented a couple of older Slytherins from bullying Peter. After that he had been a part of their group and when Remus had joined up shortly after, the Marauders were born.

Sirius sighed and leaned his head back, rubbing his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. Glancing at the clock on the mantle showed that it was almost seven o'clock, time for Peter to check in. This was an arrangement between Sirius and Peter in order to make sure everything was going according to plan. Even though it was only the first night, Sirius was confident in their security measures. But as seven o'clock came and went, and the minute hand inched towards 7:30, the sick feeling in his stomach deepened into a pit.

'Something's wrong' he thought again. Deciding that action was better than worrying, Sirius grabbed his favorite leather jacket and slinked out the door.

He loped down the street to get past all the wards that Dumbledore himself had placed around the safehouse. At the boundary, he disapparated and appeared on the street where Peter was staying. It was quiet and peaceful and did absolutely nothing to help Sirius's foreboding.

A half a block later, he spotted Peter's safehouse; a small, one-story house with white trim, a well kept lawn, and a white picket fence. It was so completely Muggle that Sirius wondered how Peter had come by it. Perhaps it was his mother's house.

Then he noticed that there were no lights on. It was almost eight o'clock and fully dark, so there should have been some light somewhere. Beginning to panic, Sirius jogged to the front door and pounded on it. He waited.

No answer, no sound of movement.

This time he rang the doorbell as well as knocking.

Still nothing.

"Okay," he muttered under his breath. He glanced over his shoulder to check for Muggles. Seeing no one, he pulled out his wand and whispered "Alohamora."

The lock clicked and Sirius turned the knob slowly, all of his senses on high alert. He pushed the door open, wand at the ready.

No movement was apparent in the dark hall. "Peter?" He called softly, hoping someone was there to hear him.

"Wormtail? Are you there?" He tried again a bit louder. Only darkness and silence answered him. Frustrated by the lack of light, Sirius groped along the wall for a light switch. After a moment, he found it and flipped it on.

The hall was typical for a muggle house; brown carpet, white walls with pictures, and doorways leading to the rest of the house. It didn't look as if there had been a break-in or attack of any sort, but Sirius wasn't going to take any chances. "Homenum Revelio."

The spell swept through the house, but revealed no one. That meant that not even Peter was in residence. Or alive.

"Damn," he whispered. Dreading the worst, Sirius began to search for clues as to what happened. He worked through each room; sitting room, dining room, and kitchen. The only evidence he found that _any_ one had been there was a dish and glass in the sink waiting to be washed.

'At least I know Peter made it here. But where the hell is he now?'

It was only when he searched the bedroom that Sirius found his answer. A small suitcase had been placed on the bed and a backpack thrown onto a desk in the corner. Next to the backpack was a scroll. Grabbing and unfurling the piece of parchment, Sirius read the short message with growing horror.

 _Mr. Pettigrew,_

 _It is time to prove your loyalty. Bring an appropriate offering and you shall be rewarded._

 _L.M._

Sirius could barely see straight his mind was racing so fast. 'No. It's impossible. He couldn't have… he wouldn't… Would he?' He glanced back at the message, hoping it had changed or disappeared, anything to make it not true. But the message was still there, still distressingly the same.

Then the implications of this note and Peter's disappearance hit him.

"Oh no. James. Lily."

Sirius ran from the house.

O.o.O

When he arrived on Godric's Hollow, Sirius immediately knew that something very wrong had happened. The wail and screech of Muggle emergency vehicles rent the air. Sirius began running towards James and Lily's house.

A block away from their house, a fire engine raced past him. 'Don't turn left,' he begged silently. 'Please don't turn left.'

Unfortunately, whatever deity answered those kinds of prayers was apparently on holiday as the bulky vehicle swung left and entered his friends' Street.

Sirius put his head down and poured out more speed. At the corner, he slipped and hit the ground, rolling twice into someone's lawn before managing to scramble back to his feet. The sight that met his eyes when he finally looked up caused his stomach to hit his shoes.

Two fires trucks, an ambulance, and at least five police cars were spread out in front of him. All of the Muggles attention seemed fixated on a certain cottage about halfway down the street. Sirius stared as he tried to assimilate what was before him.

The cottage was two stories, classic white wash with brown trim, just what you'd expect in a quiet English village. However this image was disrupted by the gaping hole that had been blown out of the second story. A light flickered in the destroyed room, showing pale blue wallpaper and a partially destroyed rocking chair.

'No,' Sirius thought in horror. 'That's Harry's room.'

He managed to stumble closer, hoping to discover that everything he thought he was seeing was different, lesser. That James, Lily, and Harry ('ohgodharrypleasenotharry') weren't dead, just scared from an accidental explosion. 'That's it, an accident. Just an accident,' he chanted to himself as he approached the scene.

However his hopes were destroyed when passing the ambulance. Two long black bags on gurneys were waiting to be lifted into the emergency vehicle. Two long black bags that clearly held something within.

Sirius sank to his knees as the EMTs loaded both gurneys, shut the doors, and drove off with no sirens. 'No sirens is always a bad sign,' he thought dully. 'No need to hurry if treatment is not necessary.'

Then it hit him.

There had only been two bags. Sirius didn't know if a one-year-old would warrant a bag of his own, but perhaps Harry had been overlooked, perhaps was even still alive.

'And maybe still in the wreckage.'

Sirius glanced around to see where the police and emergency workers were. Luckily everyone was busy chatting or filling out paperwork. No one was watching the cottage. He cast a quick disillusionment charm on himself and slunk towards the front door. After making sure that the Muggles were still engaged elsewhere, Sirius slipped into the house.

He began to analyze the scene, seeking clinical detachment to hold off the crushing grief and loss. The front door had been blown inward, obviously where the murderer had entered. The runner in the hall was scrunched up where a surprised victim had rushed in to see what happened. Moving to the sitting room, he noticed a slender stick of wood resting casually on the sofa. Recognizing the wand, Sirius realized that the victim in the hall must have been James. 'Dear God, he was unarmed.'

He carefully picked up the wand, struggling against the rising memories and grief. He pocketed his dearest friend's wand and proceeded through the house. Climbing the stairs, Sirius took note of the scorched wood smell that pervaded the house. 'Only wood, no blood. Obviously the Avada Kedavra curse.'

He stumbled a bit and his detachment faltered when he saw the exploded door to Harry's nursery. He stepped carefully into the room, eyes and ears attuned to any sign of life.

The crib sat in the corner where he and James had built it in the Muggle way, purely because Lily had doubted they could. The tiny mobile of broomsticks and snitches was nowhere to be seen, probably blasted outside in the explosion. The dresser that had held Harry's clothes was a splintered ruin of wood and fabric. The rocking chair that Lily had used to help Harry fall asleep lay on its side, the back missing more than half of its structure. Sirius crossed to the chair and righted it, then proceeded to pick through the room.

"Oi, who's in there?"

Sirius glanced up from sifting through the wreckage to see a mountain of a man in the doorway. If the beard and accent didn't give away his identity, Hagrid's size certainly did. Realizing that he hadn't removed his disillusionment yet, Sirius quickly tapped his skull and muttered "Finite Incantatum." Turning to the groundskeeper, he said "It's only me, Hagrid."

"Sirius Black," Hagrid sighed in relief at seeing a familiar face. "How'd you get here so fast? It's only been a couple of hours since this happened."

Sirius shook his head, not wanting to divulge his suspicions just yet. "It doesn't matter. I'm guessing Dumbledore sent you?"

"Yeah, he sent me to pick something up." Hagrid gestured to a small parcel that he was carrying in his arms.

"Oh?" Sirius asked, his curiosity peaked. "And what's that?"

"Why, little Harry o'course."

He stilled as Hagrid raised a large meaty hand to the bundle and revealed a dark head and small face. The boy's eyes were wide open and flashed bright green when he saw his Uncle Padfoot. Chubby little baby arms stretched out towards the man whose entire existence was now focused solely on him.

Sirius stretched out his own arms towards the child. Hagrid transferred the baby to Sirius and watched as this man, known for his casual and careless nature, sank to the floor weeping and cradling his friend's son. Hagrid had to stifle a few of his own tears as he considered what had happened that night. A great witch and wizard had been cut down before their time and the world was little less bright because of it. But that was the way of war and Hagrid had his orders.

"Sirius," he said gently to the still weeping man. "I need to take Harry now."

Sirius's head rose in confusion, "Take Harry? Where?" Turning to the groundskeeper, he said in a slightly petulant tone, "But I'm his godfather. He should go with me."

"Aye," agreed Hagrid. "But Dumbledore hisself asked me to bring Harry to him. And I mean to do it." He then gently removed the baby from Sirius's arms. "You can speak to the professor about it later, but for now I think this is best, don't you?"

Rubbing a hand over his tear stained face, Sirius conceded the point. "I suppose you're right. Besides," he said as his expression hardened, "I have some unfinished business to take care of." 'Of the backstabbing, rat shaped variety,' he added silently.

"Well, I'd best be off if I'm to arrive in any sort of time," Hagrid said as he secured little Harry more tightly within his coat.

Sirius pulled himself out of his dark thoughts, concerned. "How are you going? Not by floo. That's not safe for infants."

"Aye, I know that. No, I have to travel by Muggle means."

An idea struck out of the blue. Sirius dug through his pockets. Finally finding his keys, he dragged them out, separating one from the lot. "Here," he said, passing the key to Hagrid. "It's for my motorcycle. I left it here before I went into hiding. It will get you where you're going a lot faster."

Hagrid glanced at Sirius in surprise. "But won't you need it?"

"No," Sirius said, his expression darkening. "I won't need it where I'm going. Besides, you can get it back to me later."

O.o.O

After showing Hagrid how to use the flight controls and saying one last goodbye to Harry, Sirius watched as Hagrid roared off into the night. Much had happened tonight. Two of his best friends had been betrayed by a third. His godson was off to who-knows-where along with his motorcycle. And yet the night was far from over.

Sirius's next task hung over him like doom. Tracking down that rat, Pettigrew, would be difficult, but not impossible. Peter was not good at formulating plans. He had relied on James, Sirius, and Remus for that. Sirius had no doubts that he'd be able to outfox that rat.  
'Watch out, Peter," he thought viciously as he disapparated. 'Here I come.' 


End file.
